


Definitely Not Superman

by slashsailing



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Background Character Death, Bombs, Boys Kissing, Crime Fighting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fear, Graduation, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Not Really Character Death, Sexual Content, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 00:52:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1490647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashsailing/pseuds/slashsailing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spider-Man AU</p><p>On a visit back to Atlanta to stay with his cousins, Leonard McCoy finds himself in a situation that brings about a few—spidery—changes to his biology. Upon returning to San Francisco he and his boyfriend, Jim Kirk, must learn how to make the best of these changes, which mostly includes web-shooting, spandex and crime fighting. The main question is: are the two teens cut out for this new life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Becoming Spider-Man

Leonard McCoy was once a relatively ordinary kid. Now, though? Well  _now_ , he’s Spider-Man.

It happened on a weeklong trip down to see some relatives in his home town of Atlanta. He’d taken a short, completely unauthorised, trip to his father’s old laboratory and had a mishap with some of the spiders he’d once been testing on.

At first it seemed like a harmless spider bite. It didn’t take two hours, though, before Leonard realised that this spider’s venom was anything _but_ harmless. It started with some light-headedness which turned into a temperature and steadily grew to a full blown fever over the next twenty-four hours. But, just when his cousins thought it was going to hit its peak, just when they were dead set on calling the nearest hospital, the fever broke.

Leonard was as good as new.

In fact, he was better.

He’d convinced the cousins he was staying with not to recount the story to their grandmother. It would only worry her unnecessarily. He was fine now. She was frail and sometimes hysterical and she didn’t need to raise her blood pressure worrying about something that didn’t need to be worried over.

Plus, she’d make him see a doctor the minute he got back to California.

And that just simply wasn’t an option.

Not with the current side-effects of the venom. The last thing Leonard needed was to become some hospital lab rat. He’s a high school student, for Christ’s sake, not some medical guinea pig.

He had decided to hide it from everyone. Just until he figured things out. For the first two days after the fever the most notable side effect was the ability of his hands and feet to stick to everything he touched. He’d slowly realised that it was something he could control if he thought about it.

The other most notable side effect was this hyper-awareness of his surroundings. Like another clock inside him working out angles and cataloguing the slightest shifts in temperature and moment. Spider senses, he scoffs at the label but he can’t think of another damn thing to call it.

And the more time he spent researching spiders, the more evident the similarities became.

He dedicated the last day of his supposed vacation to waiting to grow another four limbs. Luckily it didn’t happen.

He’s back home now though, has been for five days. He didn’t see anyone at first. He needed time to figure it out. He told Jim he’d caught something in Atlanta, that he couldn’t risk giving it to Jim. But he had to see Jim sooner or later. So he invited him round, they’d ordered a pizza, eaten peanut butter and ice-cream, half-watched a movie but mostly made up for the two weeks they’d spend apart, catching up and making out – they’d gone to bed early.

It’s 01:12. Leonard’s just tried his best to explain everything. But Jim looks wide-eyed. Awestruck. Dumbfounded.

“I don’t understand,” Jim frowns, shaking his head and rolling onto his side to face Leonard. Jim’s lips are pink and slightly puffy, making them appear even plumper than usual and Leonard is distracted for a few seconds. His newly enhanced vision makes looking at Jim even more of a treat, he can see the slight pigment changes along his lower lip where he chews at the skin and some of it has become rosy-red from the abuse. He can see the creases and chapped lines in high definition and Leonard wants nothing more than to smooth over the skin with his own lips.

He shakes his head and, with it, tries to shake away those thoughts. Jim deserves answers.

“At the lab, one of the projects my Pops was working on… these spiders. One bit me and now I…” but Leonard doesn’t know what to say. How does a relatively ordinary kid explain spider senses? How does a relatively ordinary kid explain enhanced strength and agility?

“And now you…?”

Leonard presses his face into the pillow, groaning slightly. He has no idea what he’s meant to say. In hindsight, post-coitus might not be the best time to tell his boyfriend he was bitten by a genetically modified spider and can now cling to walls with his hands and feet.

“And now I have super-spider powers?” Leonard phrases it as question because Jim’s better than this kind of stuff than he is. He reads comic books and watches movies about far-fetched heroes who burst into flame or turn into polar bears. God only knows, Leonard certainly doesn’t.

“Are you high?” Jim wonders, pulling at the skin of Leonard’s cheek to inspect his pupil. “I don’t remember ever seeing you with a joint.”

“I’m not high!” Leonard insists. “I’m being serious.” 

“Super-spider powers?” Jim repeats sceptically. “Are you sure?”

Leonard sighs and pushes back the covers, trying to find a pair of boxers in the mess of sheets, he slips them on and Jim pouts but watches on intently nonetheless. Leonard places his palm flat against the wall and then does the same with the other hand, before he slowly makes the small climb to the ceiling. When he looks back at Jim, the younger boy’s mouth is gaping.

“Told you I’m not high,” Leonard huffs.

“Maybe I’m high,” Jim says slowly. “Maybe I’m not even awake.”

“You’re awake, Jim,” Leonard says, dropping down onto the bed with barely a bounce of the springs.

“Shit,” is all Jim can manage.

“I know,” Leonard nods, “I wanted to tell you before, the minute I got home. I was scared I guess. When it first happened, back in Atlanta, I thought I was gonna die. It was fine at first but then the venom started to hurt so bad, all through my veins. I got a fever, was real sick… but then I just _healed_.”

“Spider’s self-heal,” Jim nods.

“Yeah… So now you know,” Leonard says. “I haven’t told anyone else, I don’t think I’m goin’ too, neither.”

“You know you can trust me,” Jim promises, twining his fingers with Leonard’s. “We’ll work this out, Bones, don’t worry.”

Leonard _does_ trust Jim, maybe more than anyone else in the world. They’ve been dating since they were freshman, now they’re starting their senior year of high school. That’s three solid years of love and trust. Leonard doesn’t even have to consider doubting Jim; he knows instinctively that Jim will be there for him. That they will get through this. Whatever _this_ actually is and whatever it might bring.

“You haven’t told your Grams?”

“No,” Leonard shakes his head. “I don’t wanna worry her; she already lost my Dad to some shitty experiment I don’t want her to think the same is happening to me. I don’t want her to freak out.”

Savannah McCoy has had more than enough of her share of grief. Granted, she’s had over seventy years to accumulate it. But nonetheless the woman has faced death time and time again. Leonard’s mother, Eleanora, died when Leonard was still only a small child. She was flying home from her sister’s home in Mississippi when the plane crashed. A freak accident with no explanation; a hundred dead and Leonard’s mother was one of them. So it was just Leonard and his father for a long time in a little house in Atlanta.

But even David McCoy, Savannah’s bright-spark, scientist son, ended up leaving her. David was a biological researcher for Georgia’s leading pharmaceutical company, he was slightly ahead of his times though, or, at least, that’s what’s been argued posthumously and his unorthodox methods ended up getting him infected with some faulty retroviral that caused an unrecognisable illness of the blood. An illness that became terminal and killed him before Leonard’s fourteenth birthday.

Which is how Leonard ended up living with his grandmother in San Francisco.

It’s how he ended up meeting Jim Kirk.

Jim Kirk; who’s currently holding his hand and telling him everything will be alright.

“You don’t stick to me though,” Jim points out.

“I can sort of control it,” Leonard shrugs, remembering the first few days of trial and error, “sort of.”

“What else can you do?”

“I’m stronger, I have better balance, I’m faster,” Leonard shrugs. “I haven’t tried much out yet, though, for the first two days I mostly just fell over and broke things. I’m trying to learn how to manage it.”

“I knew no normally functioning person could have opened that jar,” Jim says, nudging Leonard in the ribs.

“You’re still going on about that peanut butter jar?” Leonard scoffs, even though it’s a dispute that’s less than twelve hours old.

“Damn right I am, you cheated!”

“You got your damn peanut butter, didn’t you?”

Jim just makes a disgusted noise and pouts, “is that why you refused to go out with me this weekend?”

“Technically I didn’t lie, I _was_ sick,” Leonard urges. “Before.”

“Oh my God, could we make out on the ceiling?” Jim wonders. “We could have sex up there,” he decides.

“No we could not,” Leonard states.

“It would be awkward, sure, but who else can say they’ve had sex on the ceiling?”

“No, Jim.”

“Spoilsport.”

#

Jim wakes up before Leonard; he watches his boyfriend sleep and tries to note the changes that have occurred now that he’s developed these superpowers.

There isn’t anything.

It’s still the same button nose, the same almond-shaped eyes, the same freckles, the same mess of brown hair. He’s still Leonard. Still Jim’s Bones.

But he could be more. Like always, the potential to be something more, something _great_ , lingers under the surface. Just like the skill in his dexterous hands and the brilliance coming to a head in that scientific brain.

Jim grins: he has a lot of big plans for the day.

So he slips out of the bed and ponders whether or not he’ll actually be able to make spider-shaped pancakes. Maybe Savannah can give him some tips.

#

“Jim, why are we in an abandoned warehouse?”

“The real question is: why haven’t we been here before?” Jim grins.

“Warehouse, abandoned,” Leonard repeats.

“Technicalities,” Jim shrugs. “We’re here to see what you can do.”

Jim looks up into the rafters, the glass top ceiling must be forty feet high, there are chains hanging down from concrete beams and various platforms that, in theory, Leonard could make jumps to and from.

“No way,” Leonard shakes his head. This is a huge no-no. Leonard doesn’t do heights, he doesn’t do flying, he doesn’t do _this_. This insane freefalling parkour that, of course, someone like Jim would suggest as a fun alternative to their timetabled history class.

“Come on, Bones,” Jim encourages. “You need to know what you can and can’t do.”

“I can stay firmly on the ground,” Leonard huffs, “if I take my shoes off, I can even stick to it.”

“But why would you wanna do that?” Jim questions, “anyone can stand around and gape up at the sky. You could live it.”

“You got big dreams, Jim,” Leonard says softly, leaning in for a kiss.

But Jim pulls away, making a discontent sound.

“No kisses for scaredy-cats,” Jim pouts, trying really hard not to smirk.

“Are you serious?”

“Uh huh,” Jim nods solemnly. “And can you live with putting your one true love through a dry spell?” Jim asks. “Could you be _that_ cruel?”

Leonard scoffs. Jim just waits, watching him consider his options.

“ _Fine_ ,” Leonard huffs, taking one of the metal chains in hand, clinging to it. “The shit I do for love, I swear to God.”

Leonard makes his way to the top of the chain, perching himself on a ledge and trying to assess his surroundings. Mainly he’s cataloguing the fifty thousand ways he could fall and die. He doesn’t figure breaking his neck is really worth forgoing a few kisses. Jim’ll give in soon enough.

“Don’t you dare chicken out, Leonard McCoy,” Jim calls up, as if he can read Leonard’s mind.

“Don’t call me Leonard, you know it freaks me out when you do that,” Leonard calls back, glaring down at his boyfriend.

“It freaks me out as well,” Jim beams up at him, “but this is what you’re driving me to.”

“I hate this,” Leonard says, taking a deep breath.

“I know you do,” Jim says, softer; Leonard’s so high up he almost can’t hear it at all.

Jumping off the ledge makes his heart leap into his throat and every instinct in his body kick in. He hears Jim’s breath hitch and he hears the choked curse as his boyfriend prepares for the worst. But Leonard knows where every chain in the room is, he can hear the metal tinkle and feel the coolness of the breeze that make them sway in millimetre increments.

Leonard swings for one and then another and another, gliding across the vast building in diagonals, swooping close to Jim and pulling him up with him to one of the higher ledges, one that they can look out of the window onto San Francisco bay.

“Oh my God,” Jim whispers. Leonard can feel and hear his lover’s heart racing; Jim’s is beating even faster than his own. It’s so surreal, so intense. “That was amazing.”

“I can’t believe I actually-”

“I can,” Jim interrupts, looking shy; gentle blue eyes that tell Leonard how lucky his is to have Jim. How good they are for each other. “Leo the lionheart, right?” Jim whispers, kissing Leonard’s cheek.

They take a moment to look out at the bright blue sky, the fluffy white clouds, the golden-gate bridge that marks their home. “It’s beautiful,” Jim says and Leonard finds himself nodding. Even though he’s not looking out of the window. He’s looking at Jim.

#

They make it to school for their after lunch classes. Jim has Calculus and Leonard has to suffer his was through Art. Even though Jim’s the mathematician out of the two of them Leonard would much rather be in Jim’s position rather than his own: a position that includes sitting at a table with a paint brush in one hand and a pot of blue acrylic paint in the other hand. 

But after that horror is over Leonard takes Jim out for dim sum and a milkshake and they do their chemistry homework together.

Usually chemistry’s a complete ball for Leonard but Jim’s quite happy to ruin that buzz too.

“You could theoretically spin webs,” Jim begins and Leonard’s pretty sure he should have sent his boyfriend home ten minutes ago.

“And do what? Practice my crochet skills?” Leonard snorts, hoping to God that’s the conversation over.

“No,” Jim shakes his head, throwing Leonard an annoyed glance, “we can work out a way for you to condense it, and we can make like web shooters.”

“You’re trying to turn me into Batman,” Bones sighs. “I hate you.”

“As long as it’s not Superman, right?” Jim grins.

“I hate you _so much_.”

#

Jim uses his father’s currently useless military grade equipment, which is still stored in the basement of the Kirk family home, to make Leonard’s web-shooters. He presents them to Leonard like they’re a gift. Leonard would have preferred a pair of socks.

“The material is stronger than titanium but based off the same matrix as spider silk, and uh, I might have used a bit of your blood for the-”

“My blood?”

“Well I needed to get the DNA-”

“You stole my blood!”

“You were sleeping,” Jim shrugs.

“That doesn’t make it okay!”

“Please don’t freak out,” Jim urges, “please?”

“Jesus, Jim,” Bones huffs, exhaling deeply and rubbing his temples.

“It’s simple chemistry, you know. And physics and maths. Stuff I’m good at. It’s not gonna kill you, you’re not gonna die. This is gonna work,” Jim promises him. “The little wrist cuffs are military grade.”

“Your mom told you to stop stealing your dad’s old stuff.”

“It’s not like he needs it,” Jim whispers.

The hurt in those big blue eyes makes Leonard’s stomach curdle and he pulls Jim closer with a tight smile. “Thank you,” he whispers, placing at kiss to Jim’s temple. “Let’s hope I don’t die, huh?”

“You won’t,” Jim says assuredly. “You’re not like him.”

Leonard sighs but pulls Jim into his arms, holding him even tighter than before.

George Kirk died when Jim was eleven. He was a Marine. A decorated Captain. But he went down with his ship and no mark of valour or medal of honour will ever help Jim to forgive and forget. George Kirk was a good man, but he haunts Jim and Leonard hates him a little bit more every day for it.

“Stay tonight,” Leonard says, “I’m making macaroni.”

“You mean Savannah’s making macaroni,” Jim smiles and the world rights itself, tilting back on its axis.

#

They’re walking home late one Saturday night a few weeks later. Leonard is trying to adjust to his body’s new abilities and Jim is trying to train him. For what? Neither of them are quite sure yet. But Jim’s resolute in his actions nonetheless.

“Remind me that I need to get eggs, flour and broccoli,” Leonard says.

“Such a domestic God,” Jim grins.

Until they hear the scream coming from the alley way. Leonard runs towards the sound and Jim doesn’t hesitate to follow.

There’s a man holding a woman by her hair, blonde locks, not unlike Jim’s – just longer – falling into her tear stained face. She struggles with him but he’s tall, taller than even Leonard who’s just creeping over 6’1’’.

“Hey!” Jim calls out and the brute startles.

But Leonard sees the glint of the knife and his body moves without him thinking, dashing the knife away and darting behind him, kicking his legs out from underneath him. The woman slaps the guy’s face and lets out a relieved sort of growl.

Leonard pinches a pressure points and watches as the assailant’s body goes limp.

“Thank you,” she says to Leonard, turning to grant Jim with a smile too.

“We’ll wait with you until the cops get here,” Jim assures her.

“You’re good kids,” she says.

“Jim,” he introduces “and Bon- I mean Leonard, my boyfriend.”

“You two make quite the crime fighting pair,” she smiles.

“He’s the sidekick,” Leonard grins.

“Asshole,” Jim mutters, still smiling.

#

The incident becomes a catalyst for more though, it becomes the proverbial shove Leonard needed to show him how his new found agility, strength and senses can go a long way in helping people, in helping the whole city.

“You’d be like a vigilante,” Jim encourages, eating lucky charms straight from the box.

“You’re an animal,” Leonard scoffs. “I can’t be a vigilante; I need to pass these midterms.”

“You could save people, Bones,” Jim says, “do something that really matters.”

“I’m not Batman.”

“No,” Jim smiles, “you’re Spider-Man.”

#

Leonard hates spandex.

He might hate Jim Kirk just as much.

“I look ridiculous,” Leonard huffs, looking down at himself.

“Your junk looks huge,” Jim says easily, spearing some pesto fusilli with a fork and wolfing it down.

“Don’t eat that so fast,” Leonard warns. “And what do you mean _looks_?”

“Is,” Jim corrects himself. “Your junk _is_ huge.”

Leonard blushes and looks away; Jim scoffs fondly and sets down the pasta bowl.

“You do look good, Bones,” he promises, “red and blue suits you. Put the face bit up,” he instructs.

So Leonard pulls the mask over his face, he can see perfectly through the material that covers his eyes – even though it’s opaque from the other side.

“You’re unrecognisable,” Jim says, sounding proud. “Gimme a twirl.”

“This isn’t prom, Jim.”

“You’re not wearing that to prom, Bones, don’t get any ideas,” Jim teases.

“You’re such a jerk,” Leonard snorts, roughly pulling the material back down over his face.

“Your hairs all messy,” Jim says, standing up and striding the few paces across the bedroom toward Leonard. Jim pretends to fuss over his hair for a moment before pulling his boyfriend’s face down for a kiss. Jim’s not quite six foot and so he props himself up on his toes slightly to deepen the kiss, wrapping an arm around Leonard’s neck and letting the stronger boy pull him up off the ground. One hand cupped under Jim’s thigh and the other holding his back steady.

“Stop doing that,” Jim whispers, pulling his mouth away from Leonard’s but only for as long as it takes for Leonard to walk them back and dump Jim on the bed, straddling over him and diving forward to kiss his neck. Jim laughs and lets his head fall back, exposing milky white skin to Leonard’s lips, letting him nip and suck little purple marks near the collar of his t-shirt.

“How am I supposed to get you out of this thing,” Jim whines, trying to pull at the skin tight material.

“You designed it,” Leonard chuckles, not letting up on Jim’s throat.

“No, Gaila designed it for her male dancing lead, I just stole it.”

“You’re stealing a lot of weird shit lately,” Leonard scoffs, lifting up the hem of Jim’s t-shirt and discarding it.

“This isn’t fair.”

“Tell that to the kid wearing spandex,” Leonard jibes, “oh wait.”

“You look _good_ in it,” Jim insists, “stop whinging.”

Leonard repositions his legs so he’s straddling just one of Jim’s thighs; dragging his crotch back and forth over the lean-muscled limb makes Leonard reconsider his position on spandex. Maybe it’s good for something after all.

“Fuck,” Jim pants, bucking his own hips against one of Leonard’s thighs, “Bones I need- I need more.”

Leonard pulls back slightly to fiddle with the buttons of Jim’s jeans, tugging them down his hips and wrapping a hand around his half-hard cock.

They rut like the teenage boys they are, seeking out one thing and one thing only.

Regardless of the consequences.

Leonard doesn’t know how he’s going to wash come out of spandex, his or Jim’s, which is just one more reason to hate the goddamn unitard.

#

When Jim shows Leonard how he’s turned his basement into a crime fighting hub, with a comm system that intercepts emergency service transmissions, Bones is pretty sure he’s going to start looking for a new sidekick. And _boyfriend_ while he’s at it.

“Don’t be such a sour puss. This is so cool,” Jim smirks. “This is like our very own hub.”

“Has it got medical supplies?” Leonard asks.

“What?”

“If I’m gonna do this, Jim, then I’ll probably get hurt. It’s not a game once you start messing with real crime, right? Cops get hurt all the time… Paramedics, the fire service, they put themselves in danger. That’s what I’ll be doing,” Leonard says.

“You’re only there to help, Bones. You’re not gonna put yourself in danger,” Jim counters.

“I don’t know where that line is, Jim. I think we should get medical supplies, just in case,” Leonard sighs. This is real. This is really happening. He’s going to become some vigilante. He’s going to start flying through the streets on his custom made spider webbing.

“ _Attention all units: receiving a ten-thirty-one on West 19 Street and Broadway, assailant is Caucasian male, mid-thirties, last seen on foot heading eastbound.”_

“This is it,” Leonard says, pulling up his face mask.

Jim looks worried now, more than he ever has before. The realisation that Leonard is only a seventeen year old kid, not a trained superhero must be setting in. The mention of medical supplies probably didn’t help.

“I’ll see you later,” Leonard says, pressing the back of his gloved hand to Jim’s cheek.

“Yeah,” Jim nods, trying to smile, “you go, stay safe.”

#

Jim hates the waiting.

In the hub-come-bunker he’s created from what was once just a musty old basement full of tear-bitten memories, there are three monitors that show different variants of the local news with live updates and the bird’s eye view of the city from a helicopter camera. He watches Bones as much as he can, as much as his limited power from the bunker permits. He keeps a log of all the people Leonard comes into contact with, writing down what he’s done and who he’s helped, or who he’s helped the police catch.

It keeps him busy. It keeps him from feeling useless or going crazy with worry.

“Stay safe.” He says it every time Leonard leaves the basement. Jim prays that it’s enough.

#

They’re on the bridge when it happens. When a car chase turns nasty and a civilian car gets run off the freeway. It almost hits the water. When Jim looks to his side Leonard is already gone, sweatshirt and jeans shed, converse left behind on the bottom of the clothes heap. Jim runs to the edge, watches as Leonard’s web catches the car and secure is firmly to the bridge.

But there are still people in the car, a mother and a boy.

The woman is blonde, like Jim. It’s always the blondes, Leonard sighs, it kicks his new-found saviour complex into overdrive.

The boy has mousey hair. His book back has the name David written on it.

“My dad’s name was David,” Leonard says gently, trying to reach into the car and take the kids hand. The mother is bleeding from a head wound. He shouldn’t move her, but the webbing could give at any time. He needs to get them both out. “Can you take your mom’s hand, kiddo? Can you tell me if you can feel her heartbeat in her wrist?”

The boy nods hesitantly, shifting in the passenger seat to take hold of his mother’s arm. He nods at Leonard, who is washed through with relief.

“Okay, I’m gonna get you out first, and then I’ll come back for your mom. What’s her name?”

“Carol,” the boy whispers.

“That’s a really pretty name,” Leonard murmurs, shooting a web at the woman to connect the two lines holding the car up together. It’s a precarious situation and he’s not sure how he’s gonna do it. But suddenly there’s a helicopter beside him.

“Hey, Spider-Man!” he hears, “you want a little help?”

“Much appreciated,” Leonard nods before turning back to David. “Take my hand, we’ll get you out, okay?”

“And my mom,” David states.

“Yeah, and your mom.”

It’s a near miss and the car ends up in the river. But Leonard stays true to his promise.

He’s standing behind Jim in jeans and a sweatshirt, but no converse because Jim’s holding them, before the news team is even finished reporting.

“You’re getting good at this,” Jim whispers but Leonard just pulls him in for a kiss. It’s needy and deep and it leaves them both breathless.

“Stay at mine tonight,” Leonard pleads. “I just- I want to know you’re safe.”

“ _Me_?” Jim scoffs.

“Yeah you,” Leonard nods. “Remind me we need tomatoes.”

“We need tomatoes.”

“Smart-ass.”

#

“You’re late,” Savannah huffs. She’s stern and she’s tough. She’s a McCoy woman through and through and she terrfies Leonard when she gets mad.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Leonard says. “I was at Jim’s.”

“You could have called,” she huffs, “I pay for that cell phone of yours, the least you could do is make use of it to let me know you’re okay. A man almost got shot tonight. Did you know that? If it wasn’t for that Spider-guy he’d have been a gonner. He was only twenty-two; they said so on the news. It could ‘a been you, Leo, an’ then what would I do.”

“It won’t be me, Grams. Not unless someone decides to attack Jim’s basement,” Leonard says gently, kissing her cheek.

“His basement?” she questions. “What were ya’ll doin’ in there?”

Leonard panics for a moment before a blush creeps up his neck. Savannah’s mind jumps to an obvious place and even though the implication embarrasses Leonard at least this conclusion is nowhere close to what really happened. She smirks at him and then scoffs.

“He doesn’t have a bedroom the two of you could use?”

“ _Grams_!” he whines.

She eyes him, unfazed.

“I’m not talkin’ about this with you.”

“As long as you’re careful,” she murmurs.

“Not like I’m gonna get him pregnant,” Leonard mutters, completely bewildered by the fact that their conversation could take the detour from Spiderman to sex in less than five minutes. At least it provided a cover-up, of sorts. Although, granted, it’s an awkward one. But Savannah McCoy is feisty and she takes no prisoners – talking about sex with her grandson doesn’t bother her. She’s not a prude, she’s practical. Leonard has been sweet on Jim for three years; to think they, two healthy young men, haven’t acted on their desires is damn right naïve. Savannah McCoy is not naive. Plus, she likes making Leonard uncomfortable; he looks more like David when he’s flustered.

#

“She thinks that we spend the entire time we’re together having sex in your basement,” Leonard recounts, snorting into his milkshake.

“Why in the basement?”

“I don’t know, I let slip that that’s where we’ve been hanging out lately,” Leonard shrugs, “now she probably thinks you’ve turned it into a sex dungeon.”

“I,” Jim says.

“I what?” Leonard frowns, confused.

“Where _I_ ’ve been hanging out lately.”

“Oh,” is all Leonard can say.

“I just,” Jim sighs, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“You’re seeing me now,” Leonard says, taking Jim’s hand and linking their fingers.

“For an afterschool milkshake? What are we, like, twelve?” Jim scoffs. “Don’t worry,” he says after a moment, catching sight of Leonard’s perplexed-seeming guilt. “I know this is important, I just… I didn’t know Spider-Man would spend so much time away from the Spider-cave.”

“Do spiders live in caves?”

Jim just stares at him unamused.

“You’re right,” Leonard says, nodding, “I ah, I have been out a lot lately. I’m sorry. We’ll do something this weekend though, the whole weekend, just us. I’ll make it up to you.”

Jim smirks and Leonard laughs, trying not to roll his eyes.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Jim,” he scoffs.

“Not on your life, Bonesy.”

# 

Leonard isn’t one to break a promise; after class finishes for the week he gets in his battered old pick-up truck and drives his boyfriend back to the Kirk house so that Jim can pick up his weekend bag and give Winona a rough idea of their plans. Then they buy groceries for the weekend, and some additional confectionery to get Savannah on side. Once they’re cuddled up in the safety of Leonard’s bedroom with a bowl of popcorn and a glass of Dr. Pepper each, Leonard puts on an old mixed-tape he’d stolen from Jim’s but it goes completely unappreciated – read: ignored - in favour of making out, instead.

It doesn’t take long for Jim to end up in Leonard’s lap but they both manage to remain clothed for at least the first four songs. After that though, Leonard gets to work on ‘making it up’ to Jim. Which, for the most part, consists of getting Jim’s jeans off and blowing him until he can’t see straight.

Leonard knows he’s really forgiven when Jim finally threads his fingers through Leonard’s hair, tugging and whimpering and gasping until he’s coming down the back of Leonard’s throat.

“It’s only half seven on Friday, how are you planning to make things any better than this?” Jim wonders with a little smirk, pulling the stubborn leg of his dark skinny jeans off his right ankle and discarding his underwear alongside them. Leonard throws him his pyjama pants and turns the music off, getting into his own old t-shirt and boxer-brief night combo before settling in bed beside Jim.

“I’m sure I’ll find a way,” Leonard assures. “Although you don’t take much impressin’ really, it’s just head and some popcorn.”

“It’s never _just_ head, Bones,” Jim says gravely. “’specially not with your mouth.”

“Well, ‘m sorry for depriving you so much lately,” Leonard scoffs.

“You should be.”

“Maybe I could take weekends off,” Leonard considers. “I mean, I don’t wanna get behind on my school work neither.”

“Bones, it is physically impossible for you to get behind on your school work,” Jim teases, “you practically have your assignments written before they end of each class.”

“It’s called bein’ organised.”

“It’s called-”

“ _Attention all units: receiving a ten-thirty-one on 18 th Street and Castro, assailant is armed and extremely dangerous.” _

“Don’t even think about it,” Jim warns, eyes darting between his boyfriend and the comm innocently sitting on his desk. Leonard’s not sure which one is getting the reprimand but his instinct says it might be him.

“Jim,” Leonard reasons. “I have to.”

“What about us?” Jim asks. “Our weekend, just the two of us… That’s what you said.”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Leonard promises. “Put on a movie and I’ll be home before the credits roll.”

“You’d better be,” Jim says, trying to make his voice sound strong. He sets his hand over Leonard’s cheek, fingers pressing into the skin, trying to mark him in some way, to make him remember what he has to come home to.

“I love you,” Leonard promises him. They don’t say it often; neither of them feel too comfortable with the idea of love, especially with how fragile it can be. They’re both stronger than that, they won’t succumb to love, they won’t let it break them.

Jim nods, pulling his hand back.

“Stay safe.”

#

Leonard does make it back before the credits roll. Two whole minutes before.

Jim’s not impressed. Even less so when he sees that Leonard is bleeding from a hole in his shoulder.

“Oh my God,” Jim panics, “you got shot. Oh fuck, you got _shot_.”

“I told you I’d make it back on time,” Leonard huffs out, letting Jim guide him down onto the floor, leaning back against the wall.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” Jim whispers, frantically trying to find the first aid kit Leonard keeps in his desk draw. “You’re so fucking stupid, Leonard McCoy.”

“You sound angry,” Leonard scoffs, his breathing is slow and shallow and his words feel too heavy in mouth, “don’t be angry.”

“You took that first aid class, not me,” Jim huffs, “now tell me what to do.”

“It went straight through; you just need to stop the bleed.”

“You need stitches.”

“No hospitals, Jim,” Leonard shakes his head, “it’s too risky. I’ll heal up fine on my own but not if I’m still bleeding out.”

Leonard raises his head a little to coax Jim into a chaste kiss; hazel eyes glossy and tired but managing to pull off that wounded puppy look that Leonard brings into play whenever he’s done something wrong. Jim rarely gets upset, but now, Leonard figures, he has a right to be. But that means the puppy face is definitely needed. 

“If that bullet was a little bit lower…” Jim hisses, cutting himself off from saying anymore.

Leonard kisses him, again and again until Jim pulls away and makes an angry, strangled sound at the back of his throat.

“No,” Jim huffs. “Just one bullet, Bones. My father was a Marine and that’s all it took. You’re a fucking wannabe med student. _One bullet_.”

“I’m not him,” Leonard counters, already starting to sound less like he's about to cough up a lung. “ _I’m_ not gonna leave you.”

“That’s one promise you can’t make,” Jim says ruefully, kissing his cheek and securing a bandage.

Jim’s right. Leonard can’t make that promise.

Because Leonard McCoy only makes promises he knows he can keep.

#

Leonard gets good at hiding injuries from Jim after that. They heal up quick enough on their own anyway and it’s not as if he and Jim spend every waking moment together. Leonard does try to carve out time to spend with Jim and he reasons that if he took a real afterschool job then they’d be apart for the same amount of time. Of course, working as a waiter in a café and webbing around the streets as a unitard wearing vigilante are on two different ends of the career spectrum. He’s not very likely to get shot working in Starbucks.

But this is who he is now, and Leonard can’t take it back.

Even if he sometimes wishes he could.

#


	2. The Night Gwen Stacy Died

As the weeks pass on and the winter turns to spring, Spider-Man’s profile grows. Leonard’s masked persona becomes a household name throughout the city of San Francisco and maybe even beyond. The debate of whether he’s a help or a hindrance continues but it doesn’t frighten Leonard from his duty. The people of power don’t like him because they can’t pin him to anything, not a name, not an affiliation, not even a face. Some of the police department think he’s actively trying to undermine them, some think he’s just as bad as the criminals he helps try and apprehend.

But crime rates drop. People feel safer. They feel hopeful.

Spider-Man, for most of the city, isn’t an irritant or a cause for concern. He’s a hero. Their hero. He rescues kittens from trees, he swoops in and saves you from being hit by a pass, he catches your iPod before it falls into a puddle or cracks on the sidewalk.

Sure, he also stops bank robberies and fights against armed drug dealers. But he’s the people’s saviour with the little things just as much as the big things.

Leonard’s never felt so purposeful. So _needed_.

Jim needs him though, a fact which seems to remain overlooked by his boyfriend. And the fact that Leonard’s spandex covered face litters the front of every newspaper doesn’t help the young man feel anymore reassured that that need is still being met. Jim can’t remember the last time they went out to see a movie together, or the last time Leonard helped Jim with his biology homework.

“Rough weekend?” Jim asks, first thing Monday morning when Leonard picks him up for school. Leonard’s harbouring a black eye and some grazing on his cheek. The eye is bloodshot and makes the green pigments of his hazel irises all the more vivid. It’s like summer green grass and emeralds and all the rich and decadent signs of life that Jim’s missing out on.

“I fell,” Leonard admits lamely, “a guy cut my line when I was web-shooting. Smacked straight into the side of a goddamn building.”

“They didn’t show that on the news,” Jim mutters, turning his face to the window.

“What’s wrong?” Leonard questions, setting a hand on Jim’s thigh. It should be on the steering wheel, and Jim would say as much if Leonard’s last comment didn’t irritate the life out of him.

“What’s _wrong_?” Jim repeats. “I hardly ever see you lately, _that’s_ what’s wrong. And when I do see you you’re inside my TV almost getting yourself killed fighting assholes with knives and guns and fuck knows what else.”

“I’m sorry,” Leonard murmurs, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Neither do I,” Jim admits. “I don’t know what I want at all anymore.”

“Jim?” Leonard throws his boyfriend a brittle, questioning gaze. It’s one that speaks of fear and regret. “Don’t say that,” he murmurs, pulling his hand away but not before reaching his hand over Jim’s and pressing the pads of their fingers together. “I’m sorry.”

"I don't want your apology, Bones. I don't need it. I'd just like to spend some time with you once in a while. You know, head out to a movie or catch a baseball game... I-I'm proud of you. Of this," Jim admits, letting his hand follow Leonard's and graze over the spider bite on the back of his wrist, "I just wish it wasn't costing us our relationship."  
  
"It's not," Leonard rushes to refute, "or it won't, not anymore. I'll make time for us. Real time. Not just study breaks for an hour after school or milkshake dates on Saturday mornings."   
  
"I know you'll try," Jim nods, letting Leonard park the truck and kiss him on the cheek before they part ways for their separate classes. 

#

The following Sunday they share potato waffles in bed. It's not exactly morning anymore but it's still probably too early for potato waffles, at least if you ask Savannah. The two boys, on the other hand, seem happy enough to indulge. Leonard feels more than a little relieved that his absence hasn't driven them too far apart; they still laugh and joke as always and Jim still leans his head on Leonard's shoulder as a constant sign of his affection. They hold hands and they kiss and they gossip about Mr. Boyce, their biology teacher, who may or may not be having sexual liaisons with their psychology teacher, Professor Dehner.   
  
All is normal. All is right with the world.   
  
The sun is even streaming in through the shutters in that theatrical way only Hollywood blockbusters seem to capture. Jim's hair looks like spun gold in the light and, for the first time since Leonard's trip to Atlanta, Leonard feels like he's living back in his little fairy tale bubble where Jim is the much adored Prince rather than a dissatisfied boyfriend starring in a low-budget action flick.   
  
"I've missed you," Leonard breathes. The feeling hits him in a sharp wave, knocking him from the side - he didn't see it creeping up on him, even though the coast-guard was flashing red lights at him and he could hear the rush of the white surf getting closer and closer. Leonard was so near to suffering a loss and he didn't even notice. Not until he was faced with the quiet beauty of a Sunday afternoon in bed with a boy whose eyes are the colour of sapphires and whose laugh is made of sunshine.   
  
"I've missed you too," Jim murmurs, kissing Leonard's shoulder. He still looks half asleep, with his hair stuck up every which way and his eyelids still not all the way open. His lashes flutter against Leonard's skin and the older boy isn't sure he's ever been so in love. Leonard watches Jim for a touch longer before he shifts and pulls Jim almost all the way on top of him, torsos pressed close together. They kiss slowly for a moment or two before Leonard's hands - huge hands, rough hands, McCoy hands - clasp around Jim's waist and the tentative press of their lips becomes ferocious.   
  
Leonard wonders if he's trying to consume Jim so that he never has to feel that's wave of loss again. If he has Jim, bound up side him, then he'll never be in the position to miss him. But he tries not to analyse himself too deeply. Jim doesn't give him much of a chance, not with his roving hands and his delicate little gasps.   
  
"I need to feel you," Jim whispers. "Bones, please-"  
  
Maybe Jim's trying to do the same thing. Regardless of how different they are their minds work in surprisingly similar ways. Maybe Jim needs to be consumed. Maybe he needs to have Leonard hold him and not have to fear that he's going to let go.   
  
It's frantic at first. Two young men clutching at the loves of their lives and trying to keep it together. But their love making becomes slow and steady, careful, by the end. They're tender with each other, accepting. They enfold each other, even with all their faults and tensions and conflicts; it's reassurance that neither of them are going anywhere regardless of Spider-Man and his duty.   
  
That can't separate them. Nothing can. 

#

"Did you hear about this Nero guy?" Leonard asks, showing his laptop screen to Jim who skims the article.   
  
"Red matter?"

"That's what they're calling it. It's probably nuclear or radioactive or something. It's a weapon that'll do a lot of damage anyway," Leonard explains. "He's a terrorist, apparently, fronts some underground, guerrilla organisation. Romanian they think. His family were killed here and now he's declared war on San Francisco. But all they have so far is a threatening video from a webcam sent to City Hall."   
  
"But they don't think it's a hoax?" Jim gathers. "And neither do you."  
  
"We can't really afford to, this guy has promised to kill innocent people, Jim. And he's doing it to avenge his family, he thinks he has an honourable cause," Leonard frowns. "We need to do some digging, try and get to him before he strikes."   
  
"This is dangerous, Bones. And not the fun, daredevil, type of dangerous."

Different superhero," Leonard jokes.  
  
"I thought I was the comic book nerd?" Jim grins.  
  
"I guess I'm learning," is all Leonard says, turning back to his laptop.

#

Nero does strike. He's not just a face behind a webcam. He's not just a picture of black tattoos in an online article. He's a man with a team of thugs behind him and an unrecognisable, untraceable weapon in his hand that obliterates brick and cement like it were Lego. He takes down an entire hospital; it's pure devastation. All that remains is rubble.   
  
Thousands of people: gone.   
  
Their school is evacuated. Everyone is sent home to be with their families. It's an act of compassion.   
  
Leonard wants to go and fight. Wants to find this evil bastard and knock his teeth out. But he needs to find his Grandmother, he needs to look her in the eyes and see that she's alright. He needs to feel her cold hands on his cheeks. He needs to smell the scent of her white musk perfume and hear her laugh. They've been advised it's safer to walk home and so Leonard leaves the truck at school and escorts Jim home, hand in hand.   
  
"I'll call you when I get in," Leonard assures him. "I'll come by later and make sure everything's okay."   
  
"Okay," Jim says, "give Savannah a kiss for me."   
  
"You're a dog, Jim Kirk," Leonard teases, throwing his arms around his shoulders and pulling the blond into a tight embrace, kissing his forehead.  
  
"Damn straight," Jim replies, although it's slightly muffled by Leonard's jumper. Jim cups Leonard's jaw, kissing him once, twice, before letting him go. 

#

Savannah is sitting in her armchair reading; Leonard watches her from the doorway, just for a moment. She looks completely unruffled by today's events, if Leonard didn't know better he'd assume she just hadn't heard. But that can't be true; Savannah knows about everything that goes on in this city, raising a child here has made it her business to know the ins and outs of everything.   
  
"You're okay," she says, not looking up from her book.   
  
"I am."  
  
"And Jim," she continues.   
  
"Yeah, he's fine too, Grams."   
  
They sit together in silence for a while, for the benefit of each other. They've both lost so much in their lives. They've seen so much death and destruction, faced so much loss. Leonard sits on the floor, back pressed against the side of her chair as Savannah runs her fingers through his hair. He's so much like her David, so loyal and true. He could have called to make sure she was alright but instead he came home to see it with his own two eyes. They're all each other has left in terms of family; of course for Leonard it's different: he'll have the chance to make his own family one day. But that doesn't mean the two of them do not cling to each other. It's a constant action, one that they do unknowingly and without effort.   
  
"Go and make sure your boy is alright," Savannah encourages, "you know Jim likes to have people around him when the world is going to shit."   
  
"I'll be home before midnight," Leonard says.   
  
"You're goddamn right you will," Savannah huffs, looking stern and older because of it.   
  
"Love you, Grams."  
  
"I love you too, Leo," she assures him with a kiss on the cheek. "There's baked Alaska in the fridge, take it over to Winona's and tell her I'm thinking of them all." 

#

The baked Alaska is a good follow on from Winona's homemade stir fry, but the atmosphere around the table is still awkward and tense. Winona is another stern woman, but she is stern in a different way to Savannah. She is a woman who keeps her dignity, a woman that does not let her emotions go. That tight control over herself is something she tries to encourage in her two sons. Although, thankfully, it hasn't worked.   
  
Jim's older brother Sam has also been invited over for dinner, he's an engineering major at UCLA and he must have heard about the attack on the news. He's the patriarch of the family now; it's his job to make sure his mother and baby brother are okay. Sam tries to make light of the situation. He's an easy-going, light-hearted sort of guy. He is optimistic that they will catch Nero and his merry band of followers. He slaps his brother on the shoulder and tells him not to look so afraid, that they're Kirks, they're untouchable.   
  
But that isn't true and everyone around the table knows it.   
  
Kirks are valiant and headstrong and it gets them killed.   
  
After dinner Leonard and Jim go back to his room. They sit, fully dressed, under the bed covers for a while, turned into each other, foreheads pressed together and noses touching. Leonard can feel every shift of Jim's body, almost before he even makes it. He can feel Jim's heartbeat and is hyper aware of each breath that Jim exhales against his cheek.   
  
"I love you," Leonard whispers.  
  
"You're going to go after him, aren't you?" Jim questions, sitting up and frowning down at Leonard.   
  
"I have to."  
  
"And what if you get hurt? What will I do? Spend the rest of my life miserable like my mother?" Jim demands, trying not to raise his voice, it cracks instead and Leonard doesn't need spider senses to hear the crippling fear lodged in Jim's throat.   
  
There's nothing for Leonard to say, instead he slips out of the bed and steps into his role as Spider-Man, spandex and all. Jim just watches him go, feeling terrified and empty and absolutely outraged.   
  
Fear wins out, though, and Jim hurries down to the bunker. He watches Leonard's tracking device flash on the screen and realises he's heading down to the ruins of the hospital. Jim turns off the monitor, pulls on his jean jacket and heads in the same direction. 

#

Leonard doesn't find any sign of Nero at the hospital site. There are no clues, nothing for him to go on. This is one limitation he faces due to the fact that he works alone, separate from the police and the FBI and whoever else might be investigating Nero’s crimes. Operating freelance like this means he has no intelligence, no road to follow. Just his own instincts.

Instincts that tell him he’s not alone.

“Jim?” he calls out, turning to face what’s left of the hospital’s entry way, “what’re you doing here?”

“I can’t just sit at home and hope for the best,” Jim admits, “I can’t do it anymore.”

“I don’t want you out here,” Leonard shakes his head, eyes and emotion hidden behind the red mask. “I don’t want you to get associated with me, it’s dangerous, Jim, I don’t want you to be a target. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Well sometimes we don’t get what we don’t want,” Jim huffs, “I’m here because I need to be. For me and for you, you can’t do everything on your own, Bones.”

“I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt, how could I look Winona and Sam in the face? How could I wake up every day knowing that you got hurt because of me?” Leonard questions.

“This isn’t your choice, it’s mine,” Jim says, “I’m willing to take the risk. A little faith would be nice.”

“He brought down an entire hospital, Jim,” Leonard reminds, “I love you but I think you’re gonna need more than a little faith.”

“I’ve got you, haven’t I?” Jim smirks.

Leonard realises that he’s not gonna win this fight, that Jim is gonna do whatever the hell he wants to and nothing Spider-Man says is gonna make a damn bit of difference. So he holds out his hand and smiles, even though Jim can’t see the latter movement.

“I have a boyfriend, you know,” Jim says, holding back a smirk, “I can’t go around holding hands with every guy who shows me a bit of attention.”

“I have it on good authority he won’t mind,” Leonard chuckles, taking Jim around the waist and web shooting them over to the next building. Jim yelps and bats Leonard’s shoulder frustrated.

“You’re meant to warn me before you do that,” he gasps, turning to look out over the city from where they now stand on the roof of some high-rise offices.

“Sorry,” Leonard scoffs, leaning down to kiss Jim’s cheek.

“What’s your plan anyway?”

“I don’t know, I don’t really have one yet,” Leonard admits, “I don’t want to wait for him to strike again but at the same time I don’t know how else I’ll discover his location.”

“He’ll go bigger, won’t he?” Jim suggests. “He’ll hit City Hall or something.”

“Because he wants to make a statement,” Leonard nods. “But when?”

“As soon as,” Jim shrugs, “he might already be scouting the place out.”

“We’d better go and take a look then,” Leonard says, holding his arm out for Jim to curl into. Jim huffs, but steps closer and wraps his arms around Leonard’s neck.

“Is that alright?” Jim asks, “can you hold me up like this?”

“I gotcha, I promise,” Leonard assures him. “Just don’t strangle me.”

“I’ll try,” Jim teases. “Come on Spidey, we haven’t got all da-”

But the rest of Jim’s jibe gets cut off as Leonard starts swinging through the skies. Leonard is used to the feeling of wind against his body, of the prick of cold even on the warmest days; he’s used to the near misses of trucks and window signs and all the obstructions the city provides. He’s used to the fear – a fear he thought he’d never get over: of flying; of heights; of death. Jim’s always been more fearless than him but Leonard feels the boy’s fingers pressing into his spandex covered skin, they cling to him.

Leonard tries to shoot more carefully with Jim in his arms. He promised himself he’d keep Jim safe, he wishes he could have promised other people, he wants to be held accountable by someone other than Jim himself who loves him blindly and without hesitation.

They make it to City Hall just as the clock would be chiming midnight. He’s gonna be late home again and Savannah will be pissed. But it comes with the territory, part and parcel of the job.

And it’ll be worth getting grounding for a few weeks if it means he can stop Nero and his cronies. If he can save the city from the terrorist’s destruction.

“I want you to stay out of sight,” Leonard says to Jim, setting him down on his feet and guiding him back into an alcove on the roof opposite City Hall. “If it looks like things are goin’ bad, you call 911 and you get yourself out of here.”

“I wanna help,” Jim says, determined.

“I don’t even know what _I’m_ doing here yet, Jim, but if they see me and they want to start somethin’ you can’t be in that building,” Leonard states.

“I’m not stupid, Bones, and I’m not a doll. I want to help you,” Jim urges.

“I know that, Jim. And you have helped, you made this whole thing possible, from the damn suit to the web-shooters, and that goddamn bunker,” Leonard smiles, “you gave me my wings, right? Told me to get up on that platform and stop bein’ a damn ‘fraidy-cat. You gotta let me do this one, okay? Gotta let me use those wings.”

“You and your asshole metaphors,” Jim scoffs, but his eyes are shining slightly, like those bright blue orbs might be trying to hold back tears. Maybe he finally understands. Jim’s done his part of the job, now he just needs to be around to hold Leonard together when he steps out of the mould of that Spider-Man costume. He has to let Leonard do some of the hard work.

“I don’t want you to get hurt either,” Jim says.

“I’ll heal, Jim,” Leonard assures, “you wouldn’t. I can’t take that risk.”

“Then you kick their collective asses, Bones, you make them sorry they ever chose this city to rampage in,” Jim encourages, leaning up to kiss Leonard’s mouth over the layer of spandex. Leonard holds Jim but the shoulders to keep them pressed close together, chest to chest.

And then, Leonard is gone and Jim is left alone, surrounded by the night.

#

Leonard pads silently around the lobby of City Hall. It looks the way he imagined it would when it’s abandoned every night: perfect and pristine, but no less abandoned. He can hear the distant click of expensive shoes on the hardwood. Security guards, he guesses.

He doubt Nero will be wearing dress trousers and a shirt to blow up the building.

Although who knows? Maybe the man secretly has high-couture style hiding under those dark tattoos. If there’s one thing he’s learnt as Spider-Man, it’s that people always surprise you.

So he takes off down the hallway in the direction of the noise.

All he finds is a security guard.

As expected.

But who, unexpectedly, walks down the hall – and Leonard can understand why, because he can hear the low sound of chatter too, maybe there’s a late night meeting, but that doesn’t sit right with him - and into a room with a group of, mostly, tattooed men who are being instructed on where to place bombs by a man who looks like Nero. A man who _is_ Nero.

Who proceeds to shoot the security officer in the head.

And Leonard can’t help the angry, confused, _frightened_ gasp he lets out.

That’s when they start shooting at _him_.

He manages to get back around the corner, shooting a web up to the ceiling so he can swing across the main foyer and down a different set of corridors. He should run. He should leave. But there are bombs in City Hall and people are going to die when they go off.

San Francisco will crumble.

So Leonard can’t go anywhere; he’ll have to stand and face this.

“Jim,” he hisses into the comm that Jim recently built into the web shooter on his right wrist, “you need to call the cops; they need to get a bomb squad down here now.”

“Bomb squad?” he hears Jim hiss back. “Bones, get out of there right now,” he orders.

“I can’t, Jim, I need to try and stop them,” Leonard says before cutting the connection.

The only downside to his plan is that Leonard doesn’t have an iota of an idea _how_ he might go about stopping them. It’s easy to chase robbers and save people from falling debris but Leonard is totally unprepared for the type of strategy needed in an operation like this. And things are only going to get worse when Nero or one of his men finally find Leonard’s location and start shooting at him again.

So he’d better change locations.

He manages to get out through one of the windows and go over the building, chanting the words of ‘we’re going on a bear hunt’ in his head to keep himself calm. He re-enters the building from a lower point, checking the basement and lower-ground floor, sweeping the place for bombs as best as he knows how. Which is really just what he’s learned from cop movies and late night TV shows.

He finds nothing. So he hesitantly climbs the stair to get back into the foyer. He tries to remain unseen but he’s a 6’1’’ guy wearing a red and blue unitard, even in the dark he’s hard to miss.

He hears the screech of tires from outside. The assholes have escaped.

Or so he thinks. Until another bullet shoots pass his face.

He rolls to the side, dodging the next few bullets and web-shooting across the lobby. He heads for the cover of the marble staircase and ducks. It’s Nero, he’s managed to gather, the last one left in the building tying up the loose ends. Which Leonard assumes means killing Spider-Man. Leonard looks out over the top of the banister but Nero is no longer on the other side of the staircase.

Leonard can’t see him. Has no idea where he’s fled to. Until he sees Jim trying to crawl into one of the front windows and sees Nero watching him from the second floor platform that the staircase leads to.

“Jim, get down!” Leonard screams, firing a web at Nero to knock the gun from his hand. The Leonard swings a web off the chandelier, bee-lining for Jim. He catches him by the waist and turns so they smash through the window, Leonard’s back taking the impact of the broken glass, shards finding their way into the skin of his back.

“Shit,” Jim hisses, “what the fuck are you playing at?”

“Nero’s in there with a gun, the rest of them are gone,” Leonard explains, “he’s seen you now, Jim, you’re not safe, we have to go. Did you call the cops?”

“They said they’d be over as soon as,” Jim nods, letting Leonard take his hand and pulling him down the street.

A few more shots are fired and Leonard takes to the air, circling around City Hall and coming to rest on the roof, setting Jim down beside him before running a hand through his hair.

“I told you to stay put,” Leonard murmurs, breathing rushed because he’s still terrified, he can hear the gunshots and he can see the blood that might have spilled. Jim’s blood. He doesn’t know what he would have done.

“When do I ever listen to you?” Jim smirks, letting himself be fawned over and petted. Leonard needs the tactile reassurance and Jim is only too happy to provide it, leaning into a kiss and entwining their fingers.

“You’re meant to be careful,” Leonard whispers.

“No,” Jim counters, “you’re the careful one.”

“I was,” Leonard corrects, “until you made me jump off that platform.”

“Now you’re Spider-Man,” Jim agrees. “What’s your plan, I don’t much wanna stick around on the roof of a building that might blow up.”

“I don’t know, Jim,” Leonard admits, “he’s still down there, and now he’s gonna be looking for us.”

“So we wait for the cops?”

“You can’t be here, Jim, it’s not safe,” Leonard shakes his head. “Let me take you home, I’ll only come back if it looks like the cops can’t handle it on their own.”

“I don’t like this, Bones,” Jim admits, “but I don’t have much choice.”

“You don’t,” Leonard agrees with a weak smile, encircling Jim’s waist with his arms. He shifts and feels the pain spike through his back. Jim doesn’t see him wince though. He might actually get away with feigning full-health. Leonard stands and dives from the building, shooting a web eastwards down the street.

But it doesn’t hold. There’s the sound of gun fire and suddenly they’re freefalling. Leonard shoots another web in the opposite direction. But Nero is following them now, he’s got a gun in his hand, but it’s not a handgun this time. It’s a bulky piece of equipment, filled with a red vile.

Leonard shoots a web at Nero’s hand, trying to disarm him, but the red matter shoots straight through his webbing. Spider-Man is powerless against Nero. Jim can see things are turning against them, that they no longer have the upper hand. With Nero around, they’re not even safe in the sky.

Leonard’s web snaps again, just as he hears the gun fire, almost electronic in sound, but dull too, liquid-like.

Jim slips out of his grasp and Leonard screams, reaching his hand out to grab at his boyfriend, firing another web to keep them from hitting the ground. They only barely making, Leonard’s heels scraping the ground and Jim making a winded sound.

“Run,” Leonard urges, “run, Jim.”

They make it to an alleyway and Leonard prays that Nero hasn’t seen them. Maybe Leonard can change into a t-shirt and jeans and they can walk home like two normal teenagers. But Leonard can’t protect Jim dressed as Leonard McCoy. Spider-Man is the one with the power to protect. Leonard’s just a kid.

Leonard can hear the police sirens in the distance; at least City Hall might stand a chance against Nero, even if he and Jim don’t. Leonard fires another web, upwards this time though, not back into the openness of the main strip. They ascend to the rooftops again, they’re safer up here.

They stay low, trying to locate Nero without given themselves away. He’s walking in the middle of the road, not worried about traffic at this time of night but Leonard has no doubt that he will blow away any car that drives in his path.

Jim pulls at Leonard’s left wrist, shooting at Nero and knocking the weapon from his hand. But it gives away their position and Nero growls up at them. Leonard wastes no time diving off the side of the building, heading for Nero and colliding with him until they are both scrapping on the tarmac road like two uncaged animals.

But Nero grabs a hold of the red matter gun once more and shoots up into the sky. Leonard is confused for a moment before he follows the trajectory of Nero’s shot. He hears the sharp hitch of breath, the dull, pained ‘oof’ just as he sees Jim fall backwards off the roof.

“No!” Leonard screams, shooting two webs, one at Jim and the other attaching it back onto the roof. But it doesn’t matter; Nero fires four or five shots in rapid succession, effectively ruining Leonard’s webbing.

Jim continues to fall.

It happens almost in slow motion. Leonard runs towards where Jim will hit the concrete sidewalk. He dives forward, shooting another web to launch him off the ground. He can hear more police sirens. They’re coming for Nero but the man doesn’t care. He’s laughing. Laughing because someone will now know the loss he had to endure. The loss of a lover. Of family.

“Jim!” Leonard screams, catching him by the forearm just before he hits the ground. But he’s not quick enough. Jim’s arm gives out with a strange, wet _snap_ and his body hits the pavement chest first.

Leonard hears the crack of ribs and sees blood welling up out of the graze across his cheek. He clambers towards Jim and pulls him into his arms.

“Please, Jim, no. No, don’t do this. Don’t close your eyes,” he begs. Leonard rips off the head of his unitard and there are tears welling up in his eyes. “Jim, don’t leave me. Just hold on. I’ll never put this damn suit on again, I swear to God, just don’t go.”

Squad cars are parking up along the other side of the road. Nero is being handcuffed. His men are in the back of a police van. Like they wanted to get caught. This was just a political statement to them. This wasn’t about Jim; he was just a side-effect, an avoidable tragedy. Icing on their cake of brutality.

But he was the love of Leonard’s life.

There’s an ambulance, and paramedics. They run to him, but stop dead in their tracks. They watch the teen in the Spider-Man cry over the lifeless corpse of his pretty blonde boyfriend.

Until Leonard’s head begins to clear from the shock and the panic.

He can hear a heartbeat.

Not his own, no. _Jim’s_.

“Jim,” Leonard whispers, reeling from a sudden burst of joy. The fear is still there, though; fear he still might not make it.

“B-Bones,” Jim stutters, his voice no more than a husked breath.

“You’re okay?” Leonard smiles softly, so goddamn grateful.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Jim wheezes.

“Uh, Spider-Man?” one of the paramedics interrupts, “we’re gonna need to take a look at him. Now.”

“Of course,” Leonard nods, crawling out of the way until he’s kneeling by Jim’s head. “You’re gonna be okay,” he promises, taking up Jim’s hand – the one not connected to the dislocated shoulder.

“We need to get him to th’ hospital,” the other paramedic explains.

“Can I go with him?” Leonard asks, “I’m- he’s my boyfriend. I need to call his mom and his brother and- please, I just wanna be with him.”

“Sure, kid,” the first paramedic says, looking at her colleague, “maybe you wanna change first though, huh? Cause less of a fuss?”  

“You’re not gonna say anythin’?” Leonard asks cautiously.

She shakes her head, red curls bobbing, shining in the artificial light of the street lamps. “Come on Scotty, let’s get him patched up,” she says to her companion. “You said his name was Jim, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, and I’m Leonard.”

“Gaila,” she introduces, “and Scotty.”

“Don’t look so worried, laddie,” Scotty says in an unfamiliar accent. “He’ll pull through.”

#

Jim is in the hospital for six days, healing cracked ribs and pulled tendons, severe bruising and concussion, not to mention that dislocated shoulder. But there isn’t much they can do for him except bandage him up and try and motivate some proper bed rest.

But, in time, he heals and Leonard spends every day he remains at home, absent from school, fussing over him and bringing him milkshakes and candy and, very unromantically, his homework. He tells Jim he’s sorry in a hundred different ways.

The biggest one of which is the fact that he doesn’t put the suit back on.

Something changes for both of them, though, the day Jim stands up in front of their peers to give his speech as valedictorian.

“It takes courage,” he begins, “to face our fears; to look them in the eye and dive right through them, shattering them and moving forward; growing from them and building on them, becoming a better person by mastering them. Graduating here today I think we can all agree we’ve faced our fears: midterm papers, finals, Tuesday Surprise in the cafeteria…” he pauses while his fellow students laugh in agreement. 

“But we’ve still got a long way to go; we still have a lot of fears to face. But that’s okay. Even on the days we don’t want to get out of bed because the world seems too scary and too dangerous, we’ll work it out, we’ll get up and we’ll get through it. We need to. For ourselves, for the people we love… We’re graduating into a new chapter of our lives and it’s scary as hell, but it’s also gonna be the best thing ever. We have to make the most of it. We can’t let our fear hold us back. So that’s my advice, that’s what everything up to this point has taught me: be daring, be brave… be fearless.”

The audience give Jim a standing ovation.

Leonard has never been more proud. Or more in love.

His heart is racing.

He thinks Jim might be telling him something.

Jim meets him after the ceremony, after they all receive their diplomas tied in little red ribbons. He kisses Leonard soundly and Winona and Savannah’s camera shutters go off simultaneously.

“I’m okay, Bones,” Jim whispers, “and I’m always gonna be. We keep each other safe, right?”

“Right,” Leonard agrees.

“But you need to get back in the suit.”

“You just miss my ass in spandex,” Leonard scoffs.

“Of course, do you blame me?” Jim smirks.

“I can’t risk getting you hurt again,” Leonard huffs.

“We all gotta face our fears, Bones. We can’t live our lives hiding away. Spider-Man is a part of who you are now, we can’t change that.”

If Leonard is honest, he’s missed being Spider-Man. He’s missed helping people.

Ans Jim is right: whether he likes it or not, Spider-Man and Leonard McCoy are two halves of the same whole. They both make up the man that Jim calls Bones, and Leonard doesn’t _want_ to take that back.

He won't. 

 

 


End file.
